


Protego

by Laurasauras



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coffee Shops, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 22:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15058835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: Abandoned for now. Fallen out of love with Harry Potter. :("It's the dreaded coffee shop AU! Except, everything is still the same in regards to setting and background, just the protagonist decided to say "Screw this, I'm going to open a coffee shop instead," and now must defend their quaint, delightful coffee shop from the rampaging forces of evil they decided not to stop." anonymous submission to https://writing-prompt-s.tumblr.com/





	Protego

Draco was really unsure about whether he was in the right place. Quite unsure. Just about ready to turn around and go home instead unsure. Except, he didn’t want to go home and he had never been convinced that the place he was looking for was real and so he couldn’t give a fig whether he ended up wandering around forever never finding it. Surely his family would be kept safe as bargaining chips so long as Draco was doing as he was told. And he was told to look for this fictional place. 

So the unsure feeling didn’t make sense.

Merlin’s surely exaggeratedly large schlong, it was real, wasn’t it? It was real and it was close and he was unsure about it because it was enchanted.

 

_ The Dark Lord loomed over him, smiling in that awful way, like he was quite sure he would be eating him but hadn’t decided which part to bite into first or whether Draco would be allowed to die prior to the event.  _

_ ‘The Order is taking in refugees from me,’ he said, his voice soft and raspy. ‘Magical refugees, those who would risk losing their homes and status and freedom to have protection. Because I threaten them.’ _

_ He stroked his long fingers down Draco’s cheek, his jagged nails catching on the skin painfully, and Draco managed not to flinch or react in any way. It was like Occlumency for the body. He was rather good at separating himself from the pain and revulsion his body felt. _

_ ‘I wonder if I have a servant, any servant, who is innocent enough to deserve protection, who would rather walk the streets aimlessly without food or shelter for the  _ chance _ at protection.’ _

_ ‘Draco doesn’t want to leave,’ Bellatrix scoffed. ‘He just has that Malfoy face, look at him. He doesn’t get that weakness from the Blacks.’ _

_ The Dark Lord took his hand from Draco’s face and turned to Bellatrix.  _

_ ‘In this case, his weakness is our strength. One with strong convictions would never be able to find Potter. I am not worried about Draco. He’ll have strong motivation to return, won’t he?’ _

_ At this, the Dark Lord gripped Bellatrix and Draco both by their arms and Disapparated. Draco managed not to stumble when they arrived on a familiar street. Pansy’s street. _

_ ‘Of course, your mother and father are my guests as well, but perhaps you could accept that. They made their choice to stand by me, after all.’ _

_ ‘Where are we, my lord?’ Bellatrix asked. _

_ ‘Draco has a girlfriend.’ _

_ His smile was wicked, the same smile Draco had seen when Yaxley had reported that he had finally killed the witch who was selling wands to mudbloods in secret, helping them escape.  _

_ Draco didn’t have a girlfriend, wasn’t likely to ever have a girlfriend (fiance, maybe, or a wife, because marriage in his family was unlikely to be about something as fleeting and useless as attraction, but not a girlfriend). But he did have a best friend, one who would listen to him and hold his hand and stroke his hair and never expect what he couldn’t give her. He didn’t think he could love a girlfriend more than he loved Pansy, so the point was moot. _

_ ‘You go along, now,’ the Dark Lord said. He stroked Draco’s cheek again, like he was some kind of pet. ‘You go along and find Harry Potter. And I’ll invite Miss Parkinson to stay in your place until you return.’ _

 

Draco didn’t even know why he’d chosen this town to start off with. Surely he would have been better off looking in London. As far as he and his family were concerned, England finished at Birmingham and everything north of there was just allowed to continue calling itself English because no one could be bothered correcting them. And yet there he was, in  _ Lancashire _ of all places. 

It wasn’t as hideous as he had expected, but his standards had been incredibly low. He could  _ hear _ northerners. It was almost enough to distract him from that increasingly pressing feeling that he was in the wrong place. Not because he didn’t belong in the north, not because he was sure his shoes cost more than that fellow’s house, but because his instincts were screaming at him that there was nothing to be found here. 

The coffee shop obviously had the same enchantment on it as the Leaky Cauldron. Muggles walked past it without looking at it, and Draco nearly did the same. But something about the sign caught his eye.  _ Protego _ . The shield charm? He took in a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Too late, he thought about maybe disguising himself. And then he looked at the counter and saw Harry bloody Potter sitting on the counter with a folded up newspaper and a pen.

‘Seven letter word for quarantine?’ Potter asked, not taking his eyes off the paper, as if this was all very normal.

‘Isolate,’ Draco answered automatically.

‘Damn, I’ve got one of the other ones wrong,’ he muttered. He firmly wrote downwards and then traced over the letters some more, until Draco could see the black on the page from the doorway. Should he step out of the doorway?

He took a step forward.

‘Potter,’ he said.

‘Yeah, in a tic, I can figure this out.’

‘ _ Potter _ ,’ Draco insisted.

‘I can’t even blame Ron anymore, we use different pens now and this is definitely my cock up.’

Draco stepped forward again. He was now close enough that he could probably reach Potter’s dangling foot if he bent forward. He wasn’t wearing shoes. Surely that violated some kind of health code. 

‘Ha! Take that, crossword!’ Potter slapped the newspaper down onto the bench. Over half of it was still empty. Well, Draco wasn’t about to invite Potter to continue that train of thought when it looked like he was going to finally pay attention to him.

‘What can I get you?’ he asked, spinning around on his bum and hopping off to stand on the other side of the counter.

‘What?’

Potter smiled at him. Draco had never been on the direct receiving end of that smile. It made him unreasonably angry. 

‘This is a coffee shop,’ Potter said. ‘What kind of drink do you want?’

‘I don’t like coffee.’

‘Tea, then.’

Okay, well there was no denying that Draco liked  _ tea _ . 

‘How do you take your tea?’

Draco frowned. 

‘I really don’t understand what you’re asking,’ he said.

‘Milk? Sugar?’

Draco raised his eyebrow at Potter. Potter just leaned on his elbows on the bench. Had he been hit with a memory charm? But he seemed to recognise him, he just didn’t seem to  _ care _ .

‘Tea,’ Draco said. ‘Tea is tea, I don’t know what you’re asking me, what is the issue?’

Potter laughed. 

‘You’ve never made a cup of tea in your life, have you?’

Draco gave Potter his most aloof look. He really wasn’t feeling comfortable with any part of this day. Not with his mission, not with how he wasn’t sure if he was succeeding in it, not with Potter’s apparent non-reaction to him turning up and not to confusing questions about tea. 

‘Dobby?’ Potter said.

Draco’s eyebrows went up entirely without his permission when his old house elf Apparated into the room.

‘How does Malfoy take his tea?’ Well that ruled out the memory charm theory.

Dobby looked over at Draco for a moment before looking back at Harry.

‘Dobby had better be making it, Harry Potter, sir,’ he squeaked.

‘Don’t be silly, you don’t work here. Just tell me how he takes it and nip back to Hogwarts, it’ll be fine.’

Dobby looked at Draco nervously again. Draco resisted the temptation to make a stupid face at him. Apparently seeing the creature was enough to make him revert to his 11 year old self.

‘Medium strength, one sugar, and enough milk to make it golden brown. Dobby would really prefer to make Draco Malfoy’s tea himself …’

‘Thanks, Dobby! Off you pop, before you’re missed.’

Dobby Disapparated with a loud crack. Potter grinned at Draco.

‘You want to take a seat? I’ll bring it to you. Mrs Weasley made some gingersnap biscuits, too.’

If there was one thing that Draco had been taught, it was how to go along with a social situation without causing a fuss. He chose a blue armchair to sit in and watched Potter make him a cup of tea. 

Had he really succeeded? So easily? What was he supposed to do now? He was fairly certain that the Dark Lord would be quite cross if he killed Potter himself. Perhaps he was supposed to summon him with his Dark Mark? But no, if that kind of thing worked then that would have been how he killed Dumbledore rather than fucking about with the Vanishing Cabinet. Should he try and lure Potter outside? (Should he try and seek refuge here himself, beg him to save Pansy and his family and never see the Dark Lord or another Death Eater ever again?)

Potter placed a large mug and a plate of orange-brown biscuits in front of Draco and sat in the armchair next to him with his own mug. He grabbed a biscuit and dunked it into his mug before biting into it and groaning happily. 

Draco took a biscuit as well and examined it carefully. He looked up at Potter again, just checking that this was okay. Potter was watching him with amusement. Draco decided to mimic him perfectly so that he couldn’t be criticised. Minus the noise, of course. He wasn’t an animal. He dipped the biscuit into his tea and bit it before it could fall apart.

It was the best biscuit of his life. He may have made a very small noise of appreciation. He looked at Potter challengingly to see if he was going to make fun of him, but he just looked pleased.

‘So, what’s new with you?’ Potter asked. As if they actually were just in a normal coffee shop, catching up.

‘The Dark Lord asked me to find you,’ Draco said. 

And then he frowned. He hadn’t meant to say that.

‘Did you spike my tea?’

‘Yup. But also mine. I can’t lie either. Isn’t it easier this way?’

‘No! Yes? I don’t know, maybe.’

‘Are you aware that you have given every possible answer to the question?’ Potter asked, teasingly. He sipped his tea but his eyes still crinkled with a smile.

Draco sighed and took a mouthful of tea. It was perfect, exactly as he liked it, Dobby’s nervousness had been for nothing. Well, perfect if one ignored the veritaserum that was in it. 

‘So, we have all kinds of spells on this place,’ Potter said, crossing one leg over the other. ‘And there is no way you could find it if you were actually intending on selling me out. Or even if you were intending on causing anyone harm.’

He waited for Draco to respond. He didn’t.

‘Malfoy, why are you here?’

‘I didn’t exactly mean to find you,’ Draco said. Apparently he can’t resist a direct question. ‘I didn’t think this place really existed. I didn’t think it would be an actual cafe, how ridiculous is this? But he asked me to and he has my family and I’m not in the manor with him if I’m out looking for this place and then all of a sudden I’m here and you’re acting like we’re  _ friends _ or something and it’s confusing as all hell.’

‘Okay. So Vol—sorry, You-Know-Who, knows about us.’ Potter sighed and pressed his glasses up slightly. ‘Well, we knew it would happen. And he asked you to find us … why?’

‘Because he knows I want to run away. Because he knows I’ll go back anyway.’

Potter leaned forward.

‘Why did you want to leave?’

‘Him. All of them. They’re in my  _ home. _ They  _ hurt _ me. My family. They hurt us and there’s no reason to, we’re on their side.’

Potter placed his hand gently on Draco’s knee. Draco breathed deeply and divorced his mind from his body. It was fine. He was just trying to be reassuring. That’s a reassuring gesture.

‘Why would you go back?’

‘He has my parents. He has  _ Pansy _ . She’s taking my  _ place _ .’

Draco’s voice broke and he realised that he was close to tears. He took another deep breath. Potter was watching him with concern.

‘Do you want a hug?’ he asked quietly.

‘No,’ Draco said automatically. ‘Sorry.’

‘No, that’s what I mean, veritaserum really does make this easier.’ Potter patted him on the knee and then took his hand away. Draco managed not to sigh in relief. ‘I did mean what I said earlier, I’m on it too. You can ask me stuff.’

‘You’re really Potter, right?’

‘Yeah, of course. What, you think I could fool you?’

‘No … but you aren’t acting like you hate me …’

Potter looked at him carefully and then took another sip of tea.

‘Okay, um … Look, I hated you when we were kids, I can’t deny that. You were a spoilt brat, I never gave you a chance, whatever. But no one deserves to be forced into servitude, no matter how dickish they are. And he calls you all his servants, right? Slaves, really, he wouldn’t  _ pay _ you, would he? And you were having a real rough time of it last year, right? I basically can’t hate you for your dad getting you mixed up in this shit. And the school rivalry stuff feels … really insignificant by comparison. I don’t hate you. Do you hate me?’

‘Yes.’ Fucking veritaserum.

Potter laughed.

‘Okay, sorry, should have given you some wiggle room there.’

Draco sighed.

‘Not for the school stuff,’ he said. ‘For having it better than me.’

Potter’s eyes widened in surprise, but then he nodded.

‘Okay, I can deal with that. But you don’t want me dead?’

‘No,’ Draco said, rolling his eyes. ‘So, what is this place?’

Potter smiled again. It was really throwing Draco off  how he kept doing that. 

‘Right, well, after Dumbledore died the Order—that’s the Order of the Phoenix—were basically freaking out over what to do next. But we had a couple of safe houses and we were gonna figure it out, until Vol—fuck, You-Know-Who—took over the Ministry and got all the locations and counter charms. And Ron, Hermione and I hid out at my godfather’s place for a few days and I just realised I was sick of it? Like, sick of trying to do all these puzzles on my own in secret? Dumbledore never did it like that.

‘So when Remus—Professor Lupin, that is—came to check in on us and offer his help I told him we should set up a new safe house and just work from there, because fuck being on the run, right? I wanted to have the equivalent of Hogwarts, but that’s compromised, so we started from scratch. This used to be Remus’s parents’ house and it already had some protection, but we have  _ decked _ it out. Properly.’

Draco stared at Potter in disbelief. 

‘So this is your home base? But …’

Potter waited for Draco to come up with his objection calmly, taking another biscuit. He’d run out of tea to dunk it in but evidently they were still good plain. 

‘How come he hasn’t found you? How come I did?’

‘Oh! That’s clever. I got the idea from the Mirror of Erised, did you ever hear of that?’ Potter didn’t wait for Draco to answer. ‘You can only find us if you want my protection and if you’ve got need. It has to be the thing you want most in the world and it doesn’t work if you don’t have genuine need. Like, con artists might want to find me more than anything in the world because there are vulnerable people under my protection and that would be super profitable for them, but you can’t fake  _ needing _ to be here. Or Death Eaters, obviously, might want to find me more than anything because some of them are creepily into pleasing You-Know-Who, but it’s not need. Even if he’s threatening them, they can’t fool the enchantment because they don’t want  _ me _ to save  _ them. _ ’

Draco slumped into the armchair while he processed this.

‘I feel like I should mention that you’re trapped, too,’ Potter said

Draco straightened his spine a little and looked at Potter with some amount of dignity. 

‘And what do you mean by that?’

Potter smiled sheepishly. Draco felt a rush of hatred. That was the  _ oops, you caught me, but I’m Harry fucking Potter so what are you even going to do about it _ look. 

‘You did notice that you never paid for your tea, right?’

Draco looked at the mug in front of him as if that held the answers.

‘Well, we don’t take money. You owe me an act of pure friendship.’

Stupid god damn fae based enchantments. How in the ever loving fuck was he supposed to give Potter that?


End file.
